A Match Made in Hell

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A Match Made in Hell Page 24

by Terri Garey


  Here we go again.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 17

  "No, we're not going to tell Joe. His negative energy could keep Johnny from manifesting." Kelly put three white candles down in the middle of the table; one she'd stolen from the coffee table in the living room, the other two from a shelf on the wall of the basement.

  "Manifesting?" Good Lord. "I don't like this, Kelly." I looked around, taking in the brass oil lamps, the purple draperies, the wall of books on the occult. The Blue Dahlia's basement was creepy.

  Yet homey in a weird kind of way.

  "What are you talking about? This is the perfect spot to hold a séance! I wish Spider was here." She shot me a look. "He'd know more about séances than I do."

  I knew what that look meant. "I didn't kiss Spider, dammit! I was with you, down here in the basement, remember?"

  "I know." Her tone was noncommittal. She slid the Ouija board aside, making room for the candles.

  "What was Joe doing in your room, anyway?" If she wanted to go that route, I could go there, too.

  A shrug. "I went after him and talked him into coming inside while he waited for his cab. He said he didn't want to see you, so we went to my room."

  "I hope you told him I'd been with you the whole time."

  "I tried, but he didn't want to listen. He was convinced he'd seen you kissing Spider."

  Kelly wasn't looking at me, and I found her attention to setting up the séance table to be a bit much. She'd already lit the incense burner she'd found on one of the shelves, and was lighting the candles one at a time.

  If she was worried about negative energy, she needed to be more worried about the vibes I was putting off.

  "Stupid man. Like I'd actually choose a guy like Spider over a guy like him," I muttered angrily.

  Kelly straightened. "What's wrong with Spider? I think he's cute."

  I rolled my eyes. "There's nothing wrong with Spider, if you like that type, but 'cute' he is not." I was referring to Spider's dubious fascination with spirits, not his looks.

  "So you don't want him." Her comment sounded flat to my ears. "He's not good enough for you."

  "I want Joe." There. There it was, laid out on the table.

  Kelly turned, giving me her full attention for the first time since we'd entered the basement. "You better be careful with Joe's heart, Nicki. Just because I left him doesn't mean I didn't love him."

  I somehow managed to keep my mouth shut long enough for her continue.

  "I still love him, in fact, but he doesn't love me. He never really did." Her chin quivered, just once. "So you better be careful with him. I don't want to see him hurt."

  Time seemed to contract as I stared, focusing on her face, so like my own.

  And yet so different.

  A clapping began, as though Kelly and I were actors in a play, or a bad soap opera. The Young and the Restless Meets the Addams Family, perhaps.

  Bewildered, I looked around, and there—in a shadowy corner of the basement—stood Sammy.

  "Go away! Leave us alone!" I reached out, without thinking, to grab Kelly's arm, but my hand found thin air. I looked, and though Kelly was there, standing right beside me, I couldn't touch her. I tried again, and my hand passed right through her arm. As I watched, she turned her attention to the bookshelves as though completely unconcerned—or unaware—of what was going on around her.

  "Oh, Nicki, this sisterly bonding thing is so entertaining." Sammy stepped into the light, and my breath caught. Unlike the previous times I'd seen him, now Sammy truly looked the part of the Prince of Darkness. Black and red were the colors he'd chosen—a bloodred silk shirt, unbuttoned to provide a glimpse of rock hard abs; black silk dinner jacket and perfectly creased tuxedo trousers. His blond hair was mussed and his eyes were heavy, yet satisfied, as though he'd just come from a great party.

  "Don't worry," Sammy said, "she doesn't see us. She's on a different plane." There was that damned word again. "She thinks she's choosing a book on table rapping or some such nonsense, while you wait patiently, like a sheep, beside her." He chuckled, giving me a wink. "Fucking with time and dimension is only one of the many perks of my job."

  "What do you want?" My knees were shaking and my heart was racing, but I stood my ground. As long as I could see him as an ordinary guy—albeit a very hot, very scary guy—I could deal with him.

  Or so I hoped, anyway. Until he starts trying to poke me with his giant pitchfork.

  Sammy crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. What could only be called an evil grin set his bright blue eyes alight.

  "Kelly wants her husband back." Sammy sounded delighted at the prospect. "She's a thorn in your side, a rival for Joe's affections, a stubborn little know-it-all." He cocked his head the other way. "I can help you get rid of her."

  "I don't want to get rid of her."

  "You're such an adorable liar, Nicki." Sammy ran a hand through his blond hair, still grinning. "It's one of the things I particularly like about you."

  He dropped his arms, took a few steps toward the table. "Lovely room, isn't it?" He gestured around at the books, the draperies, the Ouija board on its bed of black velvet. "I do so appreciate true followers of the occult—they know just how to decorate in a way that makes me feel right at home. A pentacle or two to balance things out wouldn't hurt," Sammy shrugged, "but as long as they've got the basics."

  The day I believed that the Devil cared about feng shui was the day I started wearing denim overalls and high waders to fashion shows in Milan.

  "No inverted crucifix, no black robes, no altar. Peaches meant well, but she could never quite bring herself to go completely public about our relationship."

  My jaw dropped.

  "Oh, come now," Sammy sighed. "Surely you've figured it out by now. Kelly has. You're much more gifted than Peaches was, though. I can only hope you won't be as timid."

  "I'm not going to work for you." I glanced at Kelly, but she was still engrossed in her reading. "And you're not getting my sister either." I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. "At the risk of sounding completely corny, 'get thee behind me, Satan.'"

  "Last chance," Sammy warned, still smiling. He took a step closer, eyes burning with heat. He smelled like passion and rumpled sheets, the salty warmth of mingled juices. "I'll make it worth your while."

  Why was he being so persuasive? So seductive?

  In a sudden flash of clarity, I accused, "You can't make me do anything I don't want to do, can you?"

  His smile turned slightly sour. "An unfortunate condition of my banishment, it seems." He heaved a melodramatic sigh. "I've learned to live with it. After all, corrupting human morals is much more fun than creating an army of robots."

  "Corrupt this," I said, and made an unmistakable gesture with my middle finger.

  Instead of casting me into a pit of eternal fire, Sammy just laughed. '"Behold me then, me for him, life for life… I offer, on me let thine anger fall.'"

  "I'm sure Milton would've been gratified to know Satan was such a fan."

  "Have it your way, then, Nicki Styx. But don't say I didn't warn you." Sammy shook his head. "You're much stronger than your mother, and much prettier than your sister. We could've been good together."

  He bowed low, mockingly, and was gone.

  "We'd like to speak to the spirit of Johnny Montgomery," Kelly said. Candlelight flickered on her face, casting shadows on the draperied walls. She hadn't believed me when I told her Sammy popped in for visit while her head was buried in a book, claiming that since she'd seen or heard nothing, I was just overtired.

  I was tired, all right. Tired of arguing. Tired of fighting. Tired of tension and jealousy and stress and spirits popping up to complicate things every time I turned around.

  As if they weren't complicated enough already.

  She'd insisted we hold hands, but I'd only given her one of mine. The other one I kept in my lap, rubbing my thumb over the silver and marcasite ring Joe had given
me for a Halloween present.

  It had only been a few days, yet it seemed so long ago. We'd been having so much fun.

  "We summon the spirit of Johnny Montgomery," Kelly repeated. "Please speak to us."

  Joe had looked good enough to eat that night. I'd done that, and gone back for seconds.

  I wanted Joe. I needed Joe. And as soon as I could manage to pry Kelly away from her stupid candles and her stupid books and her stupid ideas about saving lost souls, I was gonna march right into that bedroom at the end of the hallway and make him listen to me, and Devil take the consequences.

  I shot a guilty glance toward Kelly. She was the consequences, or so it appeared, but what could I do if she wouldn't listen to me? She seemed determined to throw herself into this psychic stuff, and I couldn't babysit her 24/7.

  "Johnny Montgomery?" Kelly wasn't giving up. "Are you here? Please speak to us."

  How was I supposed to make up with Joe and still keep Kelly safe? Did I even want to keep Kelly safe? She was pretty determined to stick her spiritual neck out.

  Kelly sucked in a breath. "He's here," she whispered. "There's a little boy standing by the table. Do you see him?"

  "No." I shook my head, but took her word that the little boy's spirit was there. The way her face looked in the candlelight was enough to convince anybody of anything. She looked scared, yet elated.

  "Johnny says you have to tell Sarah a story," Kelly said, repeating what the boy said without understanding what he meant. "He says she won't believe you otherwise."

  After breathing in sandalwood incense for a good five minutes, listening to Kelly talk to thin air, I wouldn't believe anything I had to say either.

  I sighed. "Why doesn't he just tell her himself?" This séance thing was so cheesy. I believed Johnny was there, but what was the problem? He was a ghost, Sarah was a ghost—why didn't he take his little sister by the hand and drag her into the Light?

  "He says she can't see or hear him. Nobody could, until now."

  Wow. So ghosts couldn't necessarily see each other—how weird. I'd assumed they were all on the same plane.

  Plane? Oh man.

  "Johnny wants to tell us a story." Kelly's face softened. "That's so sweet," she said (not to me). "Tell me, Johnny."

  Then she was quiet, listening.

  "Of course we will," Kelly said. "I promise." Her eyes met mine, briefly, then went back to the empty chair. "Nicki will tell Sarah what you said. Then you can both go into the Light."

  "Nicki will tell Sarah what?" Being talked about as if you were invisible was a little strange, particularly when you were being talked about by someone who was invisible.

  "Johnny wants you to remind Sarah of the time he took her fishing," Kelly said. "Sarah got her dress all muddy, and Johnny got a hiding for it. He wasn't supposed to take her down by the river."

  "A 'hiding'?"

  Kelly shrugged, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I think he means a spanking."

  "Oh." Good times in the nineteenth century, I suppose.

  Something brushed my ankle, and I shrieked like a banshee, grabbing at Kelly, who shrieked, too.

  But it was only the cat, the one I'd petted earlier in the courtyard. Unconcerned by our shrieks, the furry little beast leapt up onto the table and lay down, tail twitching in a self-satisfied manner. If I didn't know better, I would have said the cat enjoyed a grand entrance.

  "Bad cat," I scolded as soon as I had my breath back. "Get down." I shooed at it halfheartedly. "Get out."

  "Her name's Tabby," came a voice. I jumped again, gasping, and there was Sarah, peeking around a chair. She glanced a little fearfully at Kelly until she realized her appearance hadn't registered with anyone but me. "She plays with me sometimes."

  "Hello, Sarah," I said.

  Kelly straightened, saw where my eyes were trained, and looked there, too.

  I'd barely gotten my breath back, but I kept my voice gentle and made an effort to get straight to the point. "Johnny's here, Sarah," I said. "He's come for you."

  Her face turned bright with joy. "Where is he?" she cried, grabbing her nightgown with both hands. She began bobbing with excitement, craning her neck to look behind me.

  "He's here, Sarah. You just can't see him."

  Her face fell.

  My heart fluttered in sympathy. "But my sister can see him." I gestured toward Kelly, hoping to restore Sarah's smile.

  But the little girl frowned at both of us, distrustful.

  "How can she see Johnny if he's not here? She can't even see me when I'm standing right in front of her." Sarah was deeply disappointed, becoming more downcast by the second. She ignored Kelly and took one last look at the empty space behind me, as though her brother might be hiding there, then stared at the floor.

  "Sarah doesn't believe you can see Johnny," I murmured to Kelly, fearful of saying anything to frighten Sarah away.

  "He's about ten years old, with brown hair and lots of freckles," Kelly said. "And he says he called you Sissy."

  Sarah's head lifted. Her lower lip trembled.

  "Johnny wants to go into the Light, but he doesn't want to leave you here alone, Sarah," Kelly said. She was facing the empty chair, not knowing exactly where to look.

  Sarah watched her, still mistrustful. "No!" The little girl snatched up one of her braids and began stroking it beneath her fingers, unconsciously soothing herself. "I don't believe you! Outside this house it's dark, and it's scary. I'll wait for Johnny. He'll come."

  "We can prove Johnny's here, Sarah," I said. "You can't see him, but he's here."

  "Why can't I see him?" Sarah burst into tears, her question turning into a wail of grief and frustration. It didn't last long, though, subsiding into sniffles. She swiped at damp cheeks with dirty hands, leaving smudges.

  "Don't do it, little goth girl." A whisper raised the hair on my arms.

  "Did you hear that?"

  Kelly looked at me, puzzled. "Hear what?"

  "These children belong to my master," Psycho Barbie whispered, "and he wants them."

  Ah. Finally, the light of comprehension dawned. Sammy had told Kelly he wanted something from this house, but it wasn't something—it was someone. Two little someones, apparently.

  "Keith Morgan's girlfriend is here, Kelly."

  "Where?" She looked around, peering into the dark corners, tightening her grip on my hand.

  "Obey his wishes, or pay the consequences."

  "Go to hell," I said boldly, glancing around the room.

  "Nicki!" Kelly was obviously shocked that I'd say a bad word in front of children, ghostly or not.

  I looked at her, thoroughly exasperated and more than a little creeped out. The darkness in the basement made it impossible to see into the corners, where Psycho Barbie and her master were probably hiding.

  So did I shut up, or did I do my best to send Sarah and her brother into the Light?

  I took one more look at those mussed pigtails and those smudged cheeks, and the answer was clear.

  "Sarah, do you remember the time Johnny took you fishing?" I looked at Kelly, hoping she'd fill in the details. "You got your dress all muddy, and Johnny got in trouble for taking you."

  Sarah dropped her head, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She nodded, remembering. "Mama was mad. She said Johnny should know better… everybody knows the air's bad down by the river," she said softly, to no one in particular. The woebegone expression on her face touched my heart. "But Johnny and I had fun while we were there." Her cornflower blue eyes met mine, questioning. "How did you know that?"

  I nodded toward Kelly. "Because Johnny told my sister."

  "He teased you with a worm," Kelly said. "And then he pretended to swallow it."

  Sarah smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. "He said it felt all squirmy inside," a girlish giggle, "but he was foolin' me. He had it in his hand the whole time. I didn't want Johnny to get in trouble—I told Mama it wasn't his fault, that I made him take me fishin
g." Her cheerfulness faded. "But he got a hiding anyway, and I didn't."

  "Johnny says you can make it all better if you come into the Light with him," Kelly said softly. "He promised your mama he'd look after you. He doesn't want to leave you here alone."

  Sarah began to cry again, silently, fat tears sliding down her cheeks. She was so young—so innocent. So sad.

  "You don't have to be afraid, Sarah. The Light is a wonderful place, where everybody's happy, all the time." I spoke the words with the confidence of one who'd been there. "The brightness is caused by love, by happiness." How to explain something so unexplainable to a frightened child? "Your mama won't be mad at either of you. She'll be so happy to see you—you and Johnny both. You can be together again in a place where nobody's mad at anybody, I promise."

  "Johnny sees it." Kelly was staring at a spot where I supposed Johnny was standing. There was a note of awe in her voice. "He sees the Light."

  I looked only at Sarah, and she looked only at me.

  Keeping my voice soft, I asked, "Do you see it, Sarah?"

  Sarah blinked, and another fat tear slid down her cheek. "I'm afraid."

  I smiled at her, wishing I could do more, like give her a hug. "No need to be afraid. Just turn your head and look."

  And finally, she did.

  An instant smile transformed her face. "I see Mama," she whispered, "and there's Johnny!" Sarah stood up straight, lifting her hand as if returning a wave, and then she was gone.

  Just… gone.

  The silence was profound, as though the entire house was holding its breath. My heartbeat thudded in my ears.

  "He's gone," Kelly breathed. "Johnny's gone."

  "So is Sarah," I said, relieved.

  Chalk one up for the freaks of the world. Long may their freak flags wave.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 18

  "We did it!" For the first time ever, Kelly gave me a spontaneous hug.

  I returned it, but kept it brief. I wanted to get out of that damn basement before all hell broke loose.

  "Okay, okay, we did it. Now let's blow out the candles and get out of here."

 

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